UIaJUA/<AJ^ dflCLOUy (P- 
ts^uJUuH (TV 



ilAAJuLt WJIrdLj 




Class 



£.^4rO. 



Book_LiAl4JL4r2 



'yr-~^^..,^i,r,^^- <:^-^^y 



tf (i^2l^,^yCL^,:^^4i^ 




EULOGY 



ON 



DANIEL WEBSTER: 



PRONOUNCED BEFORE THE 



CHELSEA LIBRARY ASSOCIATION. 



DECEMBER 8, 185 2. 



By TRACY P. CHEEVER, Esq. 



EULOGY 

/ 






DANIEL WEBSTER: 



PRONOtlNCED BEFORE THE 



CHELSEA LIBRARY ASSOCIATION, 



DECEMBER 8, 1852. 



By TRACY P. CHEEVER, Esq. 



PUBLISHED BY REQUEST, 



BOSTON: 

PRINTED BY JOHN BENT, 

AT GEO. C. RAND'S, NO. 3 CORNHlll. 



Chelsea, December 17, 1852. 
Dear Sir: 

The Chelsea Library Association, at their meeting on Wednesday 
evening last, unanimously accorded you a vote of thanks for the very able 
Eulogy recently pronounced before them, on the late Daniel Webster; and 
would respectfully request a copy of the same for publication. 

Very respectfuUy, Yours, &c. 

O. E. DOWNING, Secretary. 
Tracy P. Cheever, Esq. 



Chelsea, December 17, 1852. ' 
Dear Sir: 

Your note of this date is received, and in reply permit me, throu-h 
you, to return to the members of the Chelsea Library Association my 
smcere gratitiide for their kind and very partial appreciation of my humble 
performance before them. Although the Eulogy was not written with 
reference to pubHcation, I must, however reluctantly, accede to the request 
of the Association, and accordingly tender you a copy for the press. 

Most Respectfully, Yours, 

TRACY P. CHEEVER. 
O. E. Downing, Esq. Sec. C. L. A. 



EULOGY. 



We have assembled to-night to perform a duty 
which, in every period of civilized history, and perhaps 
of savage life, has seemed to be prompted by the very 
instincts of mankind. Homage and honor to the dead 
have been rendered from the earliest ages, and among 
every people ; from the obsequies of the ancient Jewish 
patriarch, conducted with all the pomp of Egypt in the 
field of Macpelah, the imposing rites above the grim 
body of the Scandinavian warrior, the self-immolation 
of the Hindoo wife upon the funeral x)yre of her husband, 
to the more rational, yet sometimes hardly less vain 
forms of Christian burial. The altars erected to mem- 
ory are the most sacred that human hands can build ; 
the grief which is evoked from our hearts for departed 
worth is the most sincere that human hearts can feel ; 
the tears we shed for lost affection, for the sweet love in 
which we shall live no more, are the most hallowed 
tears that can bedew our eyes. 

Over the grave of Webster, the name before which 
all cotemporary names seem to grow dim, memorial 
altars and columns have been raised by admiring friends 
and countrymen in the largest measure which the gen- 
eration has yet seen ; in celebration of his praises and 



6 

in admiration of his fame, the solemn hearse with its 
costly array of sorrow, the coffin with the semblance of 
the dead, the stately procession bearing the drooping 
flag of the nation, the standards whereon were inscribed 
the priceless words of the deceased, have been seen not 
only in the city of his adojDtion, but in nearly every 
poj)ulous city in the land. From eloquent lips have 
come lofty words of honor and regret, and minstrel 
tongues have sung pathetic strains of sympathy and 
sorrow. Hearts that loved him and fondly clung to 
him, have piously nursed their private griefs, forgetting 
in the intensity of their suffering that a nation of free- 
men claimed a kindred sorrow; eyes that looked to him 
with an admiring gaze, and were kindled to a brighter 
beam by his eloquence, are darkened by the unwonted 
absence. Every class of the people, in every variety of 
condition or circumstance, has contributed to the offer- 
ings which have been heaped upon the Statesman's 
tomb. Learning, science, and the arts, have alike bewailed 
him as a patron and a brother. From sea to sea, across 
a continent's breadth, from the hills of perpetual snow 
to the land of perennial flowers, in the legislative halls 
of sovereign states, and in the classic retreats of the 
academy, has resounded a tone of sorrow, unheard till 
now, since Vernon's tomb received the mighty shade of 
Washington. 

Amid these memorial offerings we could not fail to 
observe, and to pass to the credit of those whose politi- 
cal doctrines differed widely from those of the deceased, 
the heartiness with which they have mingled in the 
general lamentation. Honest and fearless criticism has 
stood forth to name the array of defects and failings, 
real or supposed, which might be interwoven with the 



virtues of his character ; and it is perhaps well for his 
permanent fame that some of the indiscriminate lauda- 
tions which have been heaped upon his memory, should 
be tempered by calmer judgment and unimpassioned 
thought. The great life now left in legacy to our coun- 
trymen can neither be exalted by the unqualified praise 
of over-anxious admirers, nor degraded by the cold, 
traducing tongue of insidious foes. 

Splendid, indeed, has been the funeral triumph with 
which the Patriot, the Statesman, and the Jurist, has 
gone down to his final rest. He who least of all men 
needed such a tribute, has drawn forth, as the night air 
draws perfume from the evening flower, the most impres- 
sive utterances that grief can show. Yet to the spirit 
of the departed, if it could hover around the spot where 
we have come to-night with no pomp or magnificence 
of sorrow, but with stricken hearts and thoughtful 
breasts to muse an hour upon the virtues and graces 
of his character, more welcome would be our feeble 
meed of praise and meditation. 

Let me beg your patient indidgence while I simply 
glance at some points of the life and character of Mr. 
Webster, the full analysis of which demands the ablest 
critical powers, and perhaps the scope of volumes. I 
should premise that when we have subdued the first 
emotions which the occasion may inspire, the thought 
is suggested, that in truth sorrow and tears should give 
place to gratitude and joy that the life which stretched to 
seventy years of noble thoughts, of lofty purposes, of 
active deeds, which was rounded to the full circle of 
greatness, was long enough for any legitimate personal 
fame, or for earthly happiness. The simple story that 
death repeats above the urns of the mass of his vie- 



8 

tims — the ''common lot,'' "there lived a man," is in 
this instance enlarged to a sure immortality of fame 
upon the earth. How true is it "the record of illus- 
trious action is most safely deposited in the hearts of 
mankind." Of the truly great man, that record v/ill 
be safe from the rust of Time. He upon whom we 
meditate has given us this assurance in eloquent terms, 
when he says of a superior and commanding intellect 
that it is " a spark of fervent heat, and a radiant light," 
and that when " it glimmers in decay, and finally goes 
out, that no night follows, but it leaves the world all in 
flame from the potent contact of its own spirit." With 
emphasis may it be said that the true life of great men 
begins, so far as its full influence extends, after death. 
The pure life of the Grecian philosopher, Socrates, was 
so clouded by the prejudices of sophism and popular 
envy, to which at last it yielded, that his genius failed 
to win its way to the convictions of the people. His 
eccentricities, and the simplicity of his personal de- 
meanor closed the eye of the most refined capital of the 
ancient world to the divine philosophy that sparkled in 
his capacious brain. After death, when there was 
nothing; to intervene between the minds of men and his 
sublime teachings, he exercised a sway which no lapse 
of time and no revolution of philosophy has displaced. 
The genius of Francis Bacon, the modern star of phi- 
losophy, so wide and comprehensive as to embrace all 
the relations of mind and matter, blazed upon an age 
which but imperfectly felt its illumination. In that 
prolific period of learning, of poetry, and of discovery, 
political temptation a.nd the corruption of a sordid desire, 
so bent down the strong mmd of Bacon, that admiration 
of his philosophy yielded to contempt for his weakness 



9 

and his crime. It availed not his age that he taught 
truths unconceived by Aristotle or the schoolmen. 
Yet under the softening hand of death and time, 
mankind has forgotten his faults, and the progress of 
this nineteenth century of science and improvement, in 
every phase of its advancement, is marked and guided 
by his inductive hand. Galileo, the old astronomer, 
vs^hose faith in the earth's motion had been engendered 
by "star-eyed science," was overwhelmed in life by 
the intolerance of the Inquisition, and the general 
ignorance of the age over which it reigned. The 
accident of death produced a reaction and an awakening 
of his fame. The dramatic scene before the Grand 
College of Inquisitors, where the old man in face of 
the torture and the dungeon, in fealty to science 
declared, after a forced recantation of his belief, " She 
does moA^e, though," has placed his character and labors 
beyond the reach of intolerance or ignorance. Of such 
instances history is full. Indeed, it may be urged that 
the true test of the highest greatness is, that its 
possessor, whether he be an inventor of printing or of a 
cotton gin, a discoverer of the circulation of the blood 
or of a planet, a warrior, a poet, a philosopher, or a 
statesman, grows larger to the mental eye as the vista 
of time grows longer. There is something in the 
"environment" (I borrow an expressive word,) of a 
great man, either the ignorance or hatred of his 
cotemporaries, the accidents of his birth or temper- 
ament, his sympathies or antipathies, which impairs for 
a time the effect of his most earnest endeavors. It is 
a beautiful German thought, that our pains, and sighs, 
and griefs, begin and end with our bodies, and that the 
spirit once loosened from its shrine of flesh knows no 



^ 



10 

stain or imperfection. Thus is it that death divides 
the chain with which society has often bound the 
heroic mind, which then for the first time springs into 
the freedom of a true life. Into such a life have passed 
the sages, statesmen, and patriots now honored by 
universal accord, who in their time either knew not 
fame nor power, or knew it by the feeblest popular 
recognition. Even Washington, whose hold upon his 
age was firmer than that of any character in the range 
of history, swells into a grander outline of greatness 
with each receding year. In close approximation to 
this, may we not hope shall be the future life of him 
whose control over American hearts, and over the 
instincts of men through the world has but just begun. 

A full recital of the incidents of Mr. Webster's life, 
at the present time, would be needless. Some of the 
more prominent events, with their dates, which divide 
his career into periods, should be glanced at, as their 
simple mention shows better than elaborate words, his 
constant and stately progress up the high hill of fame. 

Dakiel Webster w^as born in Salisbury, N. H., on 
the 18th day of January, 1782, of parents whose pecu- 
niary means were limited, but who cherished the fondest 
hopes for their sons, Ezekiel and Daniel — the former 
of whom had been marked as the prodigy of the family. 
The early education of Daniel was derived from the 
common schools which were kept only a portion of 
the year, and were always two or three miles distant 
from his father's dwelling ; yet his mind received at that 
formative period impressions which prepared it for the 
acquisitions of after years, from the moulding hand of 
a most afiectionate and strong-minded mother. His 
father, who had determined at any personal sacrifice to 



11 

give form and polish to the rough energies which he 
thought he saw in the nature of his son, sent him at the 
age of fourteen to Exeter Academy, then under the 
charge of the celebrated Dr. Abbott. The next year 
he received the instructions of Rev. Samuel Wood, of 
Boscawen, until August, when he entered Dartmouth 
College, where he was graduated in 1801. He com- 
menced the study of law at once, and finished his 
preliminary studies in that profession under the direc- 
tion of Christopher Gore, on whose motion he was 
admitted to the Bar of Suffolk County in 1805, He 
began his practice in Boscawen, answered the bright 
hopes of his old father who was then hastening to the 
grave, and shortly afterward removed to Portsmouth. 
Here he devoted himself assiduously to his profession. 
In June, 1808, he was first married, and remained in 
private life until November, 1812, when he was elected 
to Congress, and took his seat at the extra session of 
May, 1813, which he held until after his removal to Bos- 
ton, in 1816. In Boston, to which he came on a strictly 
professional errand, he was not long suffered to remain 
out of the public councils. He served a few weeks in the 
General Court of Massachusetts, was a Presidential 
elector at Mr. Monroe's second election in 1820, and a 
member of the Constitutional Convention in 1821. In 
1822 he was elected to the Plouse of Representatives 
from Boston. In 1828 he took his seat in the Senate 
of the United States, w^here he continued through the 
administrations of Jackson and Van Buren until 1841, 
when he was called to the cabinet of Gen. Harrison, 
and entered upon his diplomatic career as Secretary 
of State. He continued at this post after Harrison's 
death until the important negotiation of the Ashburton 



12 

Treaty was concluded, when he resigned, and was again 
chosen United States Senator. He fulfilled his second 
series of senatorial duties until the decease of Gen. 
Taylor, when he was called by Mr. Fillmore in accor- 
dance with the universal suggestion of the country, to 
a second term of cabinet service, in which service he 
died. The period of his public duties as legislator and 
diplomatist extended to forty years. This long career 
was marked by acts which have formed a large portion 
of the history of his time. For though the republic 
held him so long in her especial service, never looking 
in vain for the exercise of his powers in her behalf, they 
were hardly less devoted to the delights of philosophy 
and of oratory, and to the claims of domestic and social 
life. 

Many indeed are the forms of manifestation in which 
the peculiar gifts of Mr. Webster appear. It is diffi- 
cult to determine where his predominance lies, whether 
as a Statesman, a Jurist, an Orator, or an Author. 
The diverse streams of Law, of Political Science, and 
of Oratory, have all been swollen into larger bounds by 
the torrent of his genius. The regions through which 
those streams have passed, have been in like manner 
fed and fertilized as with an Egyptian flood. His 
political and diplomatic life seems, doubtless, to the 
general eye, the largest part of the man. His acts in 
the Senate and the Cabinet, open to inspection on the 
plainest record — in the eyes and on the tongues of men, 
have in some degree obscured to the public gaze his 
more restricted, but hardly less momentous judicial 
labors. ' 

What then was his character as a Statesman, so far 
as we may gather it in the hasty and imperfect contem- 



13 

plation of the present hour 1 While the utmost force 
of intellect has been fully conceded to him, it has been 
objected that he was not a creator — not an originator, 
and that therefore he should weigh less in the scale of 
statesmanship than some otherc of our statesmen. The 
objection itself in a partial sense, is well founded, though 
the consequence of it upon the reputation of a states- 
man does not follow. Such an objection may be 
affirmed of the most remarkable statesmen of history. 
This absence of a creating power seems to arise from 
the very nature and purposes of statesmanship. It 
belongs to the statesman 7iot simply or mainly to devise 
new theories of government, not wholly to lead the 
people into new modes of thought, not to organize the 
minds of men into legislation above or below nature, 
not even merely to propose new measures to carry out 
present theories, but rather to comprehend existing 
relations — to survey the capacities of soil and climate 
— to evolve from the minds and the necessities of the 
people ideas and institutions, as the fruit is evolved 
from the earth by discriminating culture — to harmon- 
ize in the amplest measure the condition of the citizen 
with the sky above and the land around him, and foreign 
to him — to cultivate and educate by wholesome laws 
the best faculties and instincts of the individual and of 
society in reference to all the rising exigencies of civil- 
ization, and thus by strictly conforming the social and 
governmental law to material law^s, to secure a 
steady national progress. This is working with and 
according to nature, and not out of her. This is not a 
new creation of government. It is rather an education 
of the people in the principles of government, or more 
nearly a drMng out of government from the people. 



14 

It is but pursuing the principles of democracy, in 
which the people and the government become conver- 
tible terms. When this is done in subservience to the 
great truths and facts of nature, the blessing of a pros- 
perous and solid government, drawn out as it were from 
her cooperating elements, cannot fail to be added. 
The statesman in general, finds the material ready to 
his use out of which is to be wrought, by diverse insti- 
tutions, the fabric of State. The sculptor finds, not 
makes the marble in the quarry, but no one refuses to 
him the title of a creator. Yet it is the application of 
his genius to existing material which produces statues 
of divine beauty. In a similar sense is the his^h 
genius of the statesman applied to the original or 
actual condition of men and things, and thus is pro- 
duced a glorious and prosperous development, according 
to his integrity and the degree of his art. Unless I 
greatly err, we shall find the lives of successful states- 
men answering these views, rather than taking flight 
into those airy regions of imagination or metaphysical 
speculation which may be neiv, which surely are new 
to the people, but which are too far from the govern- 
mental wants of men. Even the founders of early 
states, who might be supposed to need somewhat the aid 
of speculation or subjective inquiry, so far as they suc- 
ceeded at all in government, succeeded by an applica- 
tion of their wisdom to the necessities of their subjects, 
and the realities of their condition. Lycurgus, the 
law giver of Sparta, sought in Egypt that knowledge 
of state affairs, which his own experience lacked. 
Solon, the father of the Athenian Republic, gathered 
also from the most available sources the results of 
experience, although by his evolving and adapting 



15 

power he added strength and wisdom to his institutions. 
And Kleisthenes, who improved the existing laws, and 
Pericles and Ephraltes, two'^'^statesmen as they were, 
who peifected them, performed no neiv work, constructed 
no neiv systems, but enlarged and beautified the origi- 
nal model. The English philosopher Locke, who 
planned a constitution for a state, attempted to create, 
but it is agreed that his results, however promising 
in the abstract, are entirely impracticable. Southey, 
Lovell, and Coleridge, in still later times created, i. e. 
metaphysically, what they termed a Pantiscratic league, 
to have its seat of operation in one of our southern 
states. It was designed to subject every man at once, 
without restraint, to the dominion of the purest virtues 
and the most angelic innocence*. The scheme turned 
out as Utopian in the minds of its authors, as all the 
world beside had deemed it. 

The statesman, then, is not so much a creator, as an 
adaptor and disposer, tlie interpreter of a nation's 
thoughts, the resolver of its doubts. I have dwelt at 
length upon these views, because Mr. Webster's public 
course is an illustration of them. When he entered 
Congress he sought out no new inventions. He did 
not endeavor for the sake of his own fame, yet at the 
risk of the nation's established prosperity, to revolu- 
tionize the fundamental sentiments of the country. 
His first speech, which was on a resolution concerning 
the repeal of the Berlin and Milan decrees, related to 
the best means of prosecuting the war, the inception of 
which he opposed, as well as to a discovery of the 
causes which induced it. It was thoroughly practical. 
All his sense, learning, and historic illustrations were 
employed to answer the then existing emergency of the 



16 

national afiairs. He wasted no eloquence, or wisdom, 
on generalities. "When the Bank question first arose 
in 1815, he opposed the charter, entering upon the 
subject of finance with apparently full practical knowl- 
edge. He judged of the institution by the defects 
seemingly inherent in its organization, which he saw 
in prospective rather than by any mystical bodiless 
dangers with which a mere political imagination might 
invest it. On the Panama mission, and on the Greek 
question, which were somewhat removed from the oiEer 
existing policy, he exhibited the same enlightened 
practical skill in regard to the claims of oppressed 
nations upon our own country. He demonstrated the 
necessity of the organized resistance of freedom to an 
organized tyranny, and turned the heart of the nation 
to sympathy for the struggling republics of Greece and 
South America. His comprehensive mind saw the 
real need of the doctrines he espoused, and his large 
international affections prompted him to extend the 
solace they afforded. He felt that generosity to them 
was but justice to ourselves. His eloquence nerved 
the freeman's heart, while it withered the tyrant's arm. 
Let us listen a moment to his words. " The time has 
been," he said, " when fleets and armies and subsidies, 
were the principal reliances even of the best cause. But, 
happily for mankind, there has arrived a change in this 
respect. Moral causes come into consideration in pro- 
portion as the progress of knowledge is advanced, and 
the public opinion of the civilized world is rapidly 
gaining an ascendancy over mere brutal force. It may 
be silenced by military power, but it cannot be con- 
quered. It is clastic, irrepressible, and invulnerable to 
the weapons of ordinary warfare. It is that impassable, 



17 

inextinguishable enemy of mere violence and arbitrary 
rule, which, like Milton's angels, — 

"Vital in every part, 
Cannot but by annliilating die." 

Unless this be propitiated or satisfied, it is vain for 
power to talk either of triumphs or repose. No matter 
what fields are desolated, what fortunes surrendered, 
what armies subdued, or what provinces overcome, 
there is an envy which still exists to check the glory of 
these triumphs. It follows the conqueror back to the 
very scene of his orations ; it calls upon him to take 
notice that the worldT^ioiigh silent, is yet indignant ; 
it shows him that the sceptre of his victory is a barren 
sceptre ; that it shall confer neither joy nor honor, but 
shall moulder to dry ashes in his grasp." 

Mr. Webster's speeches on the tariff of 1824, which 
as well as that of 1816, he opposed as having a partial 
and injurious effect upon the settled interests of New 
England, illustrate in the same manner the peculiar 
and practical character of his public sentiments. Let 
us hasten, however, to the scene in 1830, in which the 
grand American doctrine of the nature and extent of 
the powers of the federal constitution, and its relation 
to the states, was first fully expounded. The debate was 
opened in the first session of that twenty-first Congress, 
the last of the first year of General Jackson's admin- 
istration. The events of that time are doubtless well 
known to this audience, but they grow more imposing 
by the lapse of years. From causes which need not be 
stated at length, parties had become so fused that there 
was little division on political grounds, but a sectional 
array had sprung up against New England, her insti- 
c 



18 

tutions, and her supposed policy in regard to western 
interests, which nothing but the interposed shield of 
the fundamental law itself could ward off. Upon the 
introduction of Foot's resolutions, the onslaught was 
made by a combination of force that seemed likely to 
bear down all resistance. The doctrine of the state 
rights men, ( so called, ) was that each state could 
rightfully determine the constitutionality of the national 
laws, and had power to set them aside at pleasure — 
in other words, to nullify them. This doctrine was 
supported with boldness, and the power of numbers ; 
yet it was plain, that if it were true^ there Avas an end to 
the union of the states. 

In the days of the confederation, each state pos- 
sessed or assumed the power of setting aside a law of 
Congress, and so frail was the tenure by which they 
were held, that no revenue could be collected, except 
at the pleasure of individual states. Different regula- 
tions of trade were adopted, and different territorial 
claims set up, so that the public credit sunk too low 
for redemption, and the dirge of the confederation was 
thus sung afterwards by the Federalist. " Each state 
yielding to the voice of immediate interest or con- 
venience, withdrew its support from the confederation, 
till the frail and tottering edifice was ready to fall upon 
our heads and crush us beneath its ruins." 

To remedy these alarming evils which threatened 
the life of republicanism on these western shores, the 
constitution was framed, and after innumerable doubts 
and difficulties, was adopted by the states. The purest 
patriotism and the most disinterested wisdom Avere com- 
bined in the production of that charter, and it had 
dispelled all the evils of the confederacy and conducted 



19 

the country to a state of prosperity which the hest hopes 
of its formers could not have foreseen. Hitherto it 
had withstood the worst assaults of external and sec- 
tional opposition. But now, as in the days of the 
confederacy, the pressure of immediate aggrandizement 
and of partial and local interests had been forced 
against it, and nothing that eloquence, learning, or 
sarcasm could effect, Avas wanting to the attack. 
When the full force of these elements was expended, 
Mr. Webster appeared as a defender. He stood forth 
in the pride of his personal dignity, in the majesty of 
his intellectual strength, in the noon-day glow and 
warmth of his oratory, to turn back the late " o'ermas- 
tering tide" of narrow and selfish sentiment, and to 
overwhelm its supporters in the receding waters. Of 
the noble eloquence of that day, of the unanswerable 
logic, of the auxiliary array of rhetoric, history, and 
experience, of the high presence in which the words of 
light and truth were uttered, of the grandeur and 
pathos which mingled in the scene, transcending the 
power of the dramatist or the painter, I came not to 
speak at length. No description of the events of that 
hour could heighten the conception which our minds 
have formed. Much as we may admire the eloquence 
at which every patriotic heart throbbed with stronger 
pulse, the great result of the day, and of Mr. Webster's 
subsequent labors in the same direction, was the 
drawing out of the Constitution its true essence, the 
ascertainment of its nature, and the extent of its 
powers. It is not his largest praise that by his expo- 
sition the nullification of the moment was stayed, but 
that it formed a rock against which the events of dis- 
sension and disunion, in all future time, should be 



20 

broken. It is true that Mr. Webster attached no neiv 
provisions to the instrument, and discovered no really 
neiv ideas. His work was one of exploration. He 
went to the very depths of the Constitution. He 
plucked out the heart of its mystery. He sought to 
comprehend its design — the evils it could avert, and 
the positive good it contemplated. He went back to 
the convention at Philadelphia, and there read the 
thoughts and purposes of its members. All that was 
in the minds of the great men who formed the Consti- 
tution — all they had conceived concerning its spirit, 
concerning its expansive power to answer the growth 
and spread of states, with their increase and complexity 
of relations, was then in the mind of Webster. It was 
then enunciated by him " that the Constitution of the 
United States is not a compact between the several 
states in their sovereign capacities, but a government 
proper, founded on the adoption of the people; that 
consequently no state, as it did not of itself form the 
compact, can break it; that nothing can dissolve the 
relation existing between the government and the 
people, but the people themselves exercising the right 
of revolution ; that the construction and interpretation 
of the Constitution and Acts of Congress under it, in 
cases capable of assuming the character of suits in law 
or equity, rest with the Supreme Court ; in other cases, 
with Congress ; and that any attempt of a state to 
nullify is a usurpation of the powers of the general 
Government, and on the equal rights of other states." 
These doctrines and their corollaries have been vari- 
ously elaborated at different times by Mr. Webster. 
They have secured for him the approbation of the most 
thorough students of the Constitution, including Mr. 



21 

Madison, one of its framers. They were positive like 
the Constitution itself, and the country has enjoyed 
since their promulgation, an almost unlimited prosperity. 
Mr. Webster's language concerning the Constitution, 
may be applied to his own exposition of it : " While 
this lasts, we have a political life capable of beneficial 
exertion, with power to resist or overcome misfortunes, 
to sustain us against the ordinary accidents of human 
affairs, and to promote by active efforts every public 
interest." 

The constitutional labors of Mr. Webster have ex_ 
tended to every interest of the government under it, 
particularly to the proper separation and independence of 
the three departments of government, each a unit, and yet 
subordinate to the larger whole. His official acts and his 
doctrines in respect to our foreign relations, a sphere 
distinct from his constitutional studies, were character- 
ized by a large American spirit which could still com- 
prehend the desires, and encourage the proper aspirations 
of the whole family of nations. He deprecated war, the 
''ultima ratio regicm,'' more than any evil, except the 
loss of the national honor. He was consummately 
skilful in treaty-making even to its mmute details, for 
he knew how, by yielding a little, to gain much. To 
his clear reason, his far-reaching sagacity, and his 
persuasive closet-conversation, the Ashburton Treaty 
will be a lasting monument. That Mr. Webster some- 
times directed his public acts, as well as his speeches, 
towards the gratification of his political ambition, rather 
than to the national interests, has often been charged. 
That he was ambitious for the honor of the Presidential 
Chair, that he sought, alas! the empUj form of glory, 
when he had the power thereof, by a title which none 



22 

can dispute, we must regretfully admit. We must 
lament that the dignity of the executive chair should 
have early absorbed his aspirations. It might have 
conferred honor and reputation upon the country, but 
could have added nothing to his own fame. A President 
passes before the j)ublic eye once in four years, a 
Webster perhaps once in a century. Yet this inordinate 
desire, though a cloud upon the sunlight of his character, 
cannot darken his motives or obscure his patriotism. 

But perhaps the character of Mr. Webster as a 
statesman, may suffer in the minds of some from an 
accusation of inconsistency in his public course. He 
has at different times advocated different sides of the 
same question. Mr. Clay, Mr. Calhoun, and many 
others, come under the same ban. Mr. Calhoun was at 
first strongly in favor of the tariff, of internal improve- 
ments, and of the National Bank, but afterwards turned 
a strict constructionist of the straitest sort. The 
mutations of each of the others were perhaps quite as 
frequent. It should however be noticed, when we speak 
of the inconsistency of all these statesmen, that in 
general the questions upon which they changed their 
opinions, were questions of policy rather than of prin- 
ciple. They depended on time and circumstance. They 
related often to present or local interest, and took no 
strong hold upon the constitution. Men's views upon 
such questions, therefore, might well change, for the 
mere lapse of time might demand a change. If this 
suggestion does not suffice to remove the implied moral 
imputation against Mr. Webster, because his opinions 
have varied upon such questions, we might content 
ourselves with the reflection that no man lives a 
thoroughly consistent life. If he lives in the present, 



23 

with his age, and not in the past or in the future, if he 
be neither an antiquarian nor an ascetic, his opinions 
constantly undergo modification. Yet this does not 
necessarily imply corruption or dishonesty. The arrow 
of inconsistency easily hurled, and often dreaded by the 
timid, is a harmless one ; it never draws blood. Between 
inconsistency and shiftlessness of opinion and conduct, 
there is indeed a great gulf, and the most ordinary 
intelligence comprehends the difference. 

The recent political acts of Mr. Webster concerning 
the Compromise, upon which acts the present sentiment 
of the country is to some extent divided, are hardly, in 
my judgment, appropriate subjects of comment on an 
occasion like the present. So great has been the 
heat of controversy, so fierce have been the passions 
excited, so recently has the turf been laid upon his 
head, and so spontaneous is our regret for his loss and 
our respect for his memory, that the clearest opinion we 
may form may be partial and imperfect. Some look 
upon these closing acts as the most conspicuous illus- 
tration of his patriotism, while others regard them as 
the darkest stain upon his life. The calmer judgment 
of the future will decide the question unerringly. Mr. 
Webster saw in the union of the states, all of that 
glory, popular happiness, and prosperity, which is 
recorded in a new and golden leaf in the history of 
mankind. It formed the theme of his first and latest 
thoughts. It kindled the eloquence of his sturdy 
manhood and his majestic age. He guarded the Union 
by every power of eloquence, and every expedient of 
common sense. It is true that he cared more for the 
general Government than he did for individual states, 
but his was a parental care that rightfully loved the 



24 

whole family more than any single member. It would 
be idle to affirm that Mr. Webster committed no public 
errors, or entertained no unworthy jealousies. Yet, 
on the most limited view of his services in the Senate 
and Cabinet, who can maintain that his errors are not 
amply redeemed by the most clear and shining merits 1 

"Ordinary criminal justice," says Macauley, in his 
review of the life of Lord Clive, "knows nothing of 
set-off. The greatest desert cannot be pleaded in answer 
to a charge of the slightest transgression. But it is 
not thus that we ought to deal with men who, raised 
far above ordinary restraints, and tried by far more than 
ordinary temptations, are entitled to a more than ordi- 
nary measure of indulgence. Their bad actions ought 
not, indeed, to be called good, but their good and bad 
actions ought to be fairly weighed, and if, on the whole, 
the good predominate, the sentence ought to be one not 
merely of acquittal, but of approbation. Not a single 
great ruler in history can be absolved by a judge who 
fixes his eye inexorably on one or two unjustifiable 
acts. Bruce, the deliverer of .Scotland; Maurice, 
the deliverer of Germany; William, the deliverer of 
Holland; his great descendant, the deliverer of England; 
Murray, the good regent; Cosmo, the father of his 
country; Henry IV, of France; Peter the Great, of 
Eussia; — how would the best of them pass such a 
scrutiny'? History takes wider views; and the best 
tribunal for political cases, is that tribunal which 
anticipates the verdict of history." 

But I hasten to glance at Mr. Webster in another 
phase of his life. He belongs to the profession of the 
law, to which he early devoted his powers with an 
earnestness commensurate with its claims. He looked 



25 

upon justice as man's highest interest. He gave heed 
to treatises and expositions of law, to systems and codes, 
according to their utility and adaptation to the ends of 
civil right. Of the unwritten, or common law of 
England, which, with all its asperities, and sometimes 
oppressive refinements, contains the very kernel of 
personal liberty and security, he was a persevering 
student. To the various branches into which the 
science of law is divided, he added another, viz : that 
of constitutional law, which under our system of 
government, is of the highest consequence. His study 
of the constitution as a statesman, was made subservient 
to the consideration of all professional questions arising 
under it. The Dartmouth College question was the first 
he argued before the Supreme Court, and although it is 
related that Judge Story declared before hearing him, 
" that nothing could be made of it," he succeeded in 
constructing an argument which turned the minds of 
the bench, procured a reversal of the judgment of the 
court in New Hampshire, and a revival of the college 
under its proper charter. This celebrated case is now 
the leading one upon the subject to which it relates. 
Since that time Mr. Webster has appeared before the 
same court, during the intervals of his public business, 
in more important cases than perhaps any advocate was 
ever honored with. These cases, which need not be 
enumerated, would furnish volumes in illustration of 
his peculiar forensic abilities. He always s^zed upon 
the few main points of a case, and though scrupulously 
careful of details, he regarded them more especially as 
they bore upon those main points. He strove to reduce 
the number of issues, and to simplify them in the minds 
of the Jury by strict analysis, and then applied his 

D 



26 

whole strength, after the manner of Napoleon, upon 
each point. His consideration of a case was almost 
judicial, so that he seemed to bear to the jury the 
double weight of advocate and judge. He never 
indulged in elaborate refinements, or subtle distinctions 
in his law arguments. His aim always was, even in 
criminal cases, to reach the minds rather than the hearts 
of the jury. The art of persuasion, so common to 
great advocates, was unknown to him. He carried his 
cause by reason^ not by sympathy. If justice sometimes 
lost her hold upon the prisoner through "Webster's 
pleading, it was not because the jury felt for the 
defendant's 7msfortu7ie, but because they doubted his 
guilt. 
i^ Mr. Webster's forensic arguments are a fertile study, 
not only to professional, but to general readers. How- 
ever complicated may be the subject to which they refer, 
the simplicity of its treatment renders the discussion 
intelligible to the smallest comprehension. The chain 
of reasoning is perfect, and leads, no matter through 
what variety of details and complexity of circumstances, 
clearly to the conclusion. Strictly speaking, he had no 
ingenuity, he dealt not at all in the plausible, he never 
built up a variety of theories to explain a difficulty. With 
him, a fact or a principle was a certainti/, or it did not 
exist; he knew no half-truths. He never endeavored 
by speculation to establish facts. His argument was 
enriched according to the exigency of the occasion, 
with the learning of European systems, the fertile 
justice of the Roman Jurisprudence, and the sturdy 
sense of the Common Law. He did not disdain to 
adapt to his purposes even the most familiar knowledge 
of common affairs. In the conduct of causes in which, 



27 

even at the commencement of his practice, he was 
engaged as senior counsel, he imparted readily to his 
juniors the aid of his own riper judgment, and with 
true paternal appreciation received theirs. He hardly 
allowed even business of state to disturb his professional 
researches, but gave his best moments to the mterests of 
his clients ; his last public address having been made to 
the Circuit Court in New Jersey. In the wide domain 
of law, there is hardly a living name to dispute his preem- 
inence. He has enlarged its bounds by acquisitions of 
the most permanent value. He has exalted its character 
by the clearest reason and the truest eloquence; and 
Jurisprudence may well inscribe upon the tomb of her 
honored disciple, the two-fold classic praise, "Eloquen- 
tissimus Jurisperitorum, jurisperitissimus eloquentium." 
So solid was the frame-work of his legal mind, and so 
perfect was its adaptation, resulting from the vigorous 
discipline of his early years, to the spirit of the law, 
that it is difficult to seize upon any defects, or to con- 
ceive of any principal characteristic in other minds 
which could have added to its symmetry. His forensic 
powers seem like the rivers in the beautiful lines of 
Denman — 

" Though deep, yet clear ; though gentle, yet not dull ; 
Strong without rage, without o'ei-flowing, full." 

But Mr. Webster's character as an orator and political 
philosopher deserves, even in the hurry of this occasion, 
a passing notice. His public orations have been care- 
fully preserved, so that his fame cannot rest upon the 
doubtful tongue of tradition. The literary world has 
judged of his mind by his principal addresses, such as 
those at Bunker Hill, Plymouth, and Washington, 



28 

and his eulogy on Adams and Jefferson. The spirit of 
an enlarged political wisdom is transparent in them. 
His sympathies for mankind, and his ardent desires 
for universal upward movement, are commensurate 
with the possibilities of human advancement. In the 
majestic review with which he brings before the mind 
the ever advancing progress of ow otvn country, he 
never finds occasion to rejoice at the backward condition 
of less fortunate lands. He would exalt America, not 
to make her a ruler, but an instructor of the world. 
If he sometimes stirred her heart against "tyranny of 
existing governments, he would oftener warm it to new 
fervor in the cause of her own popular institutions. 
His political theories were broader, more reformative, 
and perhaps more humane than his practical statesman- 
ship. He sighed for, and contemplated in his own 
thoughts, a better dispensation of justice and of right 
than mankind had ever received in any form of govern- 
ment. But theories are ever in advance of realities. 
Political ideas are larger in conception than in execution. 
The friction of circumstance retards every onward 
movement, and is to be overcome only by the daily 
increasing wisdom of practical administration. 

Mr. Webster guarded well the centripetal forces of 
the government. He would keep all the glorious stars 
of our system strictly within their orbits. He was 
more thoughtful to secure steadiness than rapidity of 
movement. He was conservative, because he knew that 
men cannot be brought to conform their conduct at once 
to an ideal of right. They • cannot jump at moral or 
political excellence, but must reach it by steps, and 
through daily practice. 

Mr. Webster as a political philosopher, has been fre- 
quently compared with Edmund Burke, yet, though 



29 

there is a wide field of assimilation between tliem, their 
diversities are perhaps as wide. 

Certainly the style of Mr. Webster, if less magnifi- 
cent, is more vigorous, and the ring of its eloquence is 
clearer. It has grandeur without ruggedness, solidity 
without crudeness. It is elegant without cumbrous 
ornament, and is often like the spring described by 
George Herbert, " a box where sweets compacted lie." 
An eminent rhetorician has observed, that "the well 
of English undefiled," is to be found no less in Webster 
than in Addison. Mr. Webster has been frequently 
compared with other statesmen, as also with eminent 
jurists, the eye of friendship always discerning a superi- 
ority in him. The mind seems to be almost instinct- 
ively directed towards his great senatorial compeers, 
the measurement of whose powers with his own has 
often employed the nicest critical skill. 

I may not be deemed too fanciful, if I liken the 
unequalled three to the three principal elements of 
nature. The mind of Clay was like fire. It started 
into motion the frozen souls of men. It flashed up 
gloriously, at times fearfully into the sky. Under strict 
control it warmed and vivified whatever it reached, but 
sometimes it scathed and blasted with excessive heat. 
Calhoun's was like the air — subtle and elastic, it pen- 
etrated the most hidden depths of thought or reason. 
Invisible perhaps in its general operation, in it princi- 
ples breathed and grew. Yet it could be roused from 
its placidity into the fury of the whirlwind. The in- 
tellect of Webster was like ivater. It permeated every 
portion of the earth. It welled up in the purest 
springs of knowledge. It sometimes gathered its in- 
fluence into a Niagara flood, and sometimes swelling 



30 

large and beneficent into the expanse of the sea, it bore 
upon its ample bosom the treasures of the world. 

Of Mr. Webster in his private life, I can say nothing, 
except from current opinions and the testimony of his 
personal acquaintances. The community which has 
often gazed admiringly on his public career, and which 
first received his political instructions, is naturally 
eager to know something, indeed everything, relating 
to his jjersonality. How such a man lived at home, in 
the retirement of friendship, how he occupied his 
leisure hours, what were his thoughts about daily affairs, 
business, and household life, are matters in which all 
feel some concern. I suppose it to be true that he lent 
to the conduct of trivial affairs the dignity of his char- 
acter. Even in the relaxation of his most sportive 
hours, he remembered a certain gravity. If his face 
were wreathed in smiles or convulsed with merry 
laughter, or turned to whatever mood, the real stateli- 
ness of the man was never hid. His love for nature 
sprung up with the mountain air and amid the mag- 
nificent scenery of his New Hampshire home. His 
fondness for agriculture was acquired by its simplest 
practice in his father's corn-field, though he pursued it 
in after years with the aid which the improved science 
of the present day imparts. Through his life, nothing 
more delighted him then a walk around the paternal 
farm in New Hampshire, or over his broader acres at 
Marshfield, where he could take a survey of his animal 
and vegetable kingdoms, and make decrees for their 
government. 

Here, as in the conduct of his public affairs, he 
would have nothing on a small scale, and no meanness 
in management. He had the broadest farm which 



31 

money could buy. His live stock was the heaviest and 
the rarest in the world. He raised the largest ruta 
bagas and the tallest corn ; the fattest geese and the 
whitest swans. He did not confine his attention to 
domestic birds and beasts, but roved through the woods 
and over the beaches in search of wilder game. Com- 
mon rumor declares that his highest enjoyment of this 
kind was a fishing excursion, which should terminate 
in a chowder prepared by his own hand at the South 
Shore rocks. 

Mr. Webster was in the best sense an industrious 
man. He did not devote his time unremittingly to one 
labor or study, but when the pressure of his affairs 
permitted, divided his labors among the various exer- 
cises which required his attention. He spent much 
idle time, as many would designate it, that is much not 
devoted to any given task, and also much in field sports 
and othej jecreations. But they who would draw im- 
proper influences from this habit of a great man, should 
remember that at such times his mind was often em- 
ployed with the profoundest thoughts and plans, and 
that we owe to these lighter hours of diversion, some 
of his most brilliant intellectual achievements. He 
had the happy faculty of living at the same moment in 
two spheres. In illustration of this, I may refer to the 
statement of Mr. March, who says that the argument 
in the Dartmouth College case, was principally arranged 
during a ride from Boston to Barnstable, and that the 
Bunker Hill address was all planned, even to its best 
passages, while he was catching trout in Marshpee 
brook. 

Like a truly philosophical student, Mr. Webster 
found a wide range of study apart from books. As a 



32 

consequence of this, there were many men more learned, 
though few so wise. Yet of books he was a judicious 
reader and student. He renewed in his age the classic 
knowledge of his academic life, and adding somewhat 
to his stores, especially from his favorite classic author, 
Cicero. He was fond of poetry, chiefly that of Homer, 
Milton, Gray, and the hymns of Doctor Watts. He 
was of that class of great men who retire early to bed 
and rise early. He loved best the earliest sunshine. 

Such a mind as his could not fail to be religious. 
The great truths which underlie our common Christian- 
ity, were familiar to his thoughts. The responsibilities 
which attach to human conduct, and the solemn rela- 
tion which man sustains to his Creator, whether drawn 
from the suggestions of nature, or shown in the plainer 
record of our revelation, have scarcely ever been more 
vividly set forth than in his various addresses. They 
who are best entitled to say it, declare that he not only 
recognized the truths of religion, but apphed them to 
his daily conduct. In the social relations he was afi'a- 
ble and kind. His family affections were tender and 
true, and his friendship fervent and abiding. 

Yet not the claims of family, the pleasures of society, 
nor the delights of study, sufficed to disturb the steadi- 
ness of his devotion to his country. Pericles in his 
funeral orations over the Athenians who fell in the 
Peloponesian war, in speaking of the city on behalf of 
which those warriors died, thus sets forth its glories : 
" In fine, I afiirm that our city considered as a whole, 
is the ' school-mistress of Greece ; ' while individually 
we enable the same man to furnish himself out, and 
suffice to himself in the greatest variety of ways, and 
with the most complete grace and refinement. Athens 



33 

alone of all cities, stands forth in actual trial greater 
than her reputation ; her enemy when he attacks her 
will not have his pride wounded by suffering defeat 
from feeble hands — her subjects will not think them- 
selves degraded as if their obedience were paid to an 
unworthy superior. Having thus put forward our 
power, not uncertified, but backed by the most evident 
proofs, we shall be admired not less by posterity than 
'by our cotemporaries. Nor do we stand in need of 
Homer or of any other panegyrist, whose words may for 
the moment please, while the truth when known would 
confute their intended meaning. We have compelled 
all land and sea to become accessible to our courao-e. 
and have planted everywhere imperishable monuments 
of our kindness, as well as of our hostility." 

In such a light did Mr. Webster look upon his 
country. He had cast in his lot with her from his boy- 
hood. His father had gone out to fight the battles of 
the Revolution. The son soon caught the sturdy spirit 
that filled the old man's bosom. He looked with rev- 
erence upon the heroic and self-sacrificing deeds of the 
Eevolutionists. They who had stood in the " imminent 
deadly breach" of the battle, or on the high moral 
vantage ground of that struggle, were mvested in his 
mind with a grandeur far beyond the glory of ancient 
heroes. The sentiment of patriotism yielded in his 
view to no earthly consideration. It subdued his am- 
bition, and controlled his disappointments. He loved 
his country as Napoleon loved glory. Whatever other 
duties he may have neglected, he never failed to regard 
thoughtfully and to pursue actively, his duty to his 
country. The brightest leaf in his civic crown is the 
almost universal tribute to his patriotism which his 

E 



34 

political opponents have awarded. How often have 
mere military services been heralded as the principal if 
not the only test of a patriotic soul. Patriotism has 
been allied to the battle-field. The fame of warriors 
pouring out their blood for their native land, has been 
adorned in every age with the brilliant coloring of poetry 
and romance. Even history has given up her ample 
page almost exclusively to stories of patriotism illus- 
trated by the sword. It was reserved for Mr. Webster 
to enlarge the comprehension of men in this regard, and 
to demonstrate that he who bearing the olive of peace, 
conserves and builds up the institutions of his country, 
is a 2)(^f^'iot, and shall receive the best rewards of pat- 
riotism. Official dignities may be denied, but the 
grateful regard of a nation shall be his forever. She 
who withheld her honors of state, ^vill keep his mem- 
ory among her sacred treasures. 

Seventy years of eventful life had passed, when the 
spirit of Webster was summoned to leave its majestic, 
but mortal tenement. It was fitting that his day, so 
auspicious in its rising, and so brilliant in its noon, 
should find a peaceful close. He wa^ happy alike "in 
the renown of his life and the fitness his death." With 
an unclouded reason, and a firm faithin the dim twilight 
which lies between two worlds, he waited calmly tlie 
resolution of the mystery of life and death. He stood 
at the dividing gate, looking back upon the restricted 
years of the hitherside, and forward to an illimitable 
existence. In the hush of death, as a solace to surround- 
ing friends, and yet with the thrill of immortality in 
his soul, were heard the words "I still Live," and 
thus brightening to every Christian mind the hope of 



35 

immortal life, he sunk below the horizon of earth only 
to rise to a higher and more starry firmament. 

" So sinks the day-star to his ocean bed, 
And yet anon repairs his drooping head ; 
And triclfs his beams, and with new spangled ore, 
Flames &^the forehead of the morning sky." 

I should fail to discharge the office of this occasion, 
did I not add to this hasty sketch something concerning 
the personal duties which the life of Mr. Webster sug- 
gests. So large a life as his would hardly fulfil its 
mission to mankind, unless it brought home to every 
man's mind some of life's lessons and responsibilities. 
He whom we mourn was the product of American 
republican institutions, of the most vigorous growth 
which the country has seen. We are Americans, and 
would follow no foreign lights, but only in the path of 
the highest American example ! The example shown 
to us by Webster's life, instructs alike by its virtues 
and its errors — its successes and its failings. We may 
not rival his massive intellect, or his philosophic spirit ; 
his commanding eloquence, or his forensic learning; but 
we may imitate his unflagging industry, his devotion to 
his conceptions of duty, his social virtues, and his firm 
Christian faith. We may like him, bring all our gifts 
to the altar of the land in whose service we should ever 
live, for whose cause we should rejoice to die! The 
admonition of this great life comes to the father, 
teaching him to repeat the self-sacrificing labors which 
others have endured for the education and advancement 
of their children, for peradventure such labors may not 
be in vain. It teaches the mother that the aff'ectionate 
discipline of her plastic hand upon the rising mind of 



36 

her son, may be repaid by his manly virtues and accom- " 
plishments in after years. Such a Kfe stands as a 
beacon-light to the statesman, warning him by its 
experience, to shun the rocks and quicksands upon 
which public men make shipwreck of their fortunes, 
and to turn towards the peaceful haven of truth and 
right, to which, staunch and strong, his bark, by 
propitious breezes and concurrent tides, may be wafted. 
It stimulates the professional man to exalt his calling 
by the exercise of a liberal spirit and an unbending 
integrity. It inspires every citizen with a profounder 
interest in the Constitution, and the progress of his 
country. It teaches all, whether in reference to public 
obligations or the narrower duties of private life, to 

" Walk thoughtful by the silent, solemn shore 
Of that vast ocean we must sail so soon ; — 
And put good works on board, and wait the wind 
That shortly blows us into parts unknown." 

Such, in the faintest outline, are the grand character- 
istics, the virtues, the defects, the crowded labors, and 
the solemn lessons bequeathed to America in the life of 
her Webster. Men may pile up the Parian marble or 
the costly granite in monumental grandeur to the skies ; 
sculpture, with her kindred arts, may preserve his 
semblance for the eyes of other generations, and the 
heart of eloquence may grow warmer at the mention of 
his name, but the living spirit of his genius shall 
outlast the pyramid and the sculptured image. His 
noblest eulogy shall be the emulative deeds of his 
countrymen. 



\^' 



<f 



i 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




011 895 031 8 



